Motherhood
by Arthur88
Summary: A trio of short stories relating the interaction between Morrigan and Leliana at Skyhold as they deal with their thoughts of the Dark Ritual and bond over the challenges of motherhood. Set in the same universe as From The Ashes. Slightly AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Another idea that's been rattling around in my head for a while; one of the things I regretted was that you didn't see much in the way of interaction between Leliana and Morrigan within the game. I know this time around, they're both more peripheral characters, but it would have been good, in my opinion, to hear some conversation between the two regarding their past, or, as in my case, the Warden romanced Leliana and went ahead with the Dark Ritual, a mention from Leliana to Morrigan of the little matter of the latter sleeping with the former's lover and fathering a bastard child as part of some blood magic ritual for her own ends, that sort of thing._

 _This will be a trio of connected shorts that fit into the canon of **From The Ashes** (trying to marry up what I wrote with the events of Dragon Age Inquisition) and make some interactions between Morrigan and Leliana that I would have liked to see: this one, involving Morrigan and Leliana's first conversation with each other for over ten years, the second, which will have Leliana and Cecily dragged into the confrontation between Morrigan and Flemeth (one of my favourite parts in DAI) and finally Morrigan and Leliana burying the hatchet for good and wishing each other well as the former leaves Skyhold after Corypheus's defeat, just my attempt to write and expand a bit more with two of my favourite characters within the Dragon Age setting. Progress will be a bit slow on this, thanks to real life and the fact I'm working on several other projects elsewhere, some for here, others as part of novels i'm writing for publication, but this will get done._

 _Spoilers for Dragon Age Inquisition and the epilogue of **From the Ashes** are involved in this. As always, reviews and comments are welcome, and I hope you enjoy my latest attempt to delve into Thedas._

* * *

 ** _Skyhold, 2 weeks after the events at the Winter Palace_**

 _"_ _Mother never told me the Inquisitor was an elf"_

 _"_ _The ears gave me away?"_

 _"_ _No, your blood is very old. I saw it right away"_

 _"_ _Kieran! Are you bothering the Inquisitor?"_

 _"_ _Of course not, Mother! Did you_ see _what's on her hand?!"_

 _"_ _I did. T'is time to return to your studies, little man"_

Kieran repeated the groan of frustrated boredom he'd made as Mother had chivvied him away as he lowered his quill back to the parchment, making more notes, as Mother had instructed, regarding three different accounts she had left for him to read regarding the Battle of Hunter Fell. So far, he'd determined that the most accurate was most likely a transcribed account of the words of Molech Coteral, a casteless dwarf and a Grey Warden who'd been a part of the final assault to bring down the archdemon Toth- the other two, one written by the Nevarran nobleman Isaac Pentaghast, the other by the Orlesian chevalier Ser Patrice Bouchard, were primarily using their recollections of the Third Blight's final battle as nationalist tracts to aggrandize the accomplishments of their nation's own military contributions to the battle, while denigrating that of their rivals.

He'd also determined that whatever Mother was having him look for, searching for it was _extremely_ boring.

Since his arrival at Skyhold, he'd been keeping mostly to himself, though this time it was more out of the fact that so few knew him or had their own tasks to prioritise, as opposed to the sense of uneasiness and distrust that the nobility of the Orlesian court had exhibited towards him and his mother because they were both something out of the ordinary that flew in the face of so-called 'cultured' Orlais. The only people who'd really noticed him besides Mother had been the Inquisitor- a spindly elven girl of nineteen years who was polite enough to stop and talk whenever she passed or help him find a particular book or scroll whenever Mother sent him off to the library to study, an older male elf with a shaven head, an ascetic build to him and vulpine features who never spoke to Kieran but who the boy often saw studying him with great interest, as if trying to puzzle out what he was, and a red haired woman about the same age as Mother dressed in worn leather armour over chainmail beneath a hooded purple cloak whom Mother had identified as the Inquisition's spymaster and an old travelling companion of hers, before warning Kieran to keep away from her. So far, he hadn't encountered the spymaster, but every so often, Kieran caught her looking at him, either from across the castle garden or from her tower window, biting her lip, studying him with pale green eyes, her expression always torn between distrust and uncertainty, as if she wanted to say something to him but wasn't sure what, until she realised he was looking and retreated. As a result, Kieran had mostly kept to himself in their quarters, flicking through books Mother had left for him, slowly going crazy with boredom...there was only so much a child of ten could do in a military fortress to amuse themselves by themselves. About the only thing that the constant researching was good for was that it left him too tired to dream, sparing him from the same sights he saw in his nightmares nearly every night; a burning city, pallid-skinned monsters with curved swords and spike-festooned armour slaughtering anyone they could find, dragging the helpless kicking and screaming from burning buildings, and above it all, a monstrous dragon, its scaly hide the reddish-black hue of an infected wound, laying waste to all in its path with torrents of sickly purple fire from its maw...

Something small clattered across the floor, interrupting his concentration; Kieran looked down and saw it was a date stone. Another ricocheted off his right ear, accompanied by a mischievous giggle. Kieran whirled round in his seat, but there was no sign of the laughter's source. Kieran bent back to his studies, only to feel another date impact with the small of his back. He looked round in time to hear another mischievous giggle and spotted a flash of red hair as the culprit darted out of sight behind the room's door, then peeked around the corner of the door to see if he'd noticed. Realising she was caught, the girl slowly revealed himself- about his age, she looked like a younger version of the spymaster, tall and thin, the same vibrant red hair and shape of the face, though her hair was a long fall that reached past her shoulders and her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue. Her expression became contrite as she approached, holding out her hand, revealing several more dates- likely swiped from the castle kitchens without the cook's knowledge. She was wearing practical clothing suitable for both day to day wear and to attend court (juding by her look, the way she carried herself and the fine attire, Kieran guessed she was nobility), her attire jet black with slight trims of red along the arms and chest fashioned in the shape of Ferelden iconography-hounds and dragons-, and high riding boots that looked well made, if a little scuffed in places in a way that suggested she'd been running in them.

" _Finally_ " the girl remarked, cocking her head to one side as if trying to make sense of why he was still sitting there, a playful gleam in her eyes as she jerked away towards the door. "All you've been doing since you got here is sit with your nose buried in those dusty old books; I've seen you, you go to the library, come back here and stay here. You're sitting in a castle whose halls haven't been walked for at least five ages, there are so many places to explore and see and yet you're just sitting here?!" she finished, looking incredulously. Running a finger over the spine of one of the books Mother had dumped in his possession from the castle library, the girl continued "You clearly like history, so why are you not walking around this place that has so much of it to see?! Come on, I'll show you what I've found so far!"

"Mother said-"

The girl cut him off with a snort. "Mother, smother. Come on, you're not spending another minute in here. Besides, your books will be there when you get back; that's what _my_ mother says is one of the great things about books, they can't run away. Come now boy, the lady insists!"

"Forgive my manners, my lady. As you wish. I am Kieran" he introduced himself as he moved away from his desk, bowing low in the style of the Orlesian court as Mother had taught him. The girl, to his surprise, didn't curtsey as would be the proper response in Orlais, but reached out, grabbed his arm at the elbow, his fingers closing around hers out of instinct, and firmly shook it in what he recognised from Mother's teachings as an informal form of greeting from Ferelden.

"I'm Cecily. Cecily Cousland"

* * *

Leliana tossed aside the latest reports her agents had brought her- more old news of the Venatori ransacking ancient elven ruins for whatever purpose their master had for such looting. In the aftermath of the events at the Winter Palace and the death of his lackey in the Empress's court, Corypheus had abandoned his holdings in Ferelden and northern Orlais, the remaining Venatori cultists and Red Templars he had at his disposal all moving towards the jungles of the Arbor Wilds far to the south, towards whatever prize they hoped to find in that wild and dangerous expanse. Already, the Inquisitor and her advisors were making plans to pursue, root the enemy out of whatever hole they were hiding in within that forest and crush them underfoot once and for all.

It had been more than half a year since the disaster that was Haven, and the progress the Inquisition had made since then was truly outstanding. The victory against the manipulated Grey Wardens and now the 'success', to an extent, at the Winter Palace, to say nothing of their triumphs across Ferelden and Orlais had done much to rouse spirits that had been decimated by the destruction of Haven. The inner buildings were all refurbished, and rebuilt when necessary, giving the people a large and stable environment to live in, and the upper echelons of the Inquisition peace and security to lay their plans, train their soldiers and decide how best to continue pressing their advantage against the Elder One and his lackeys. The outer defences had been strengthened significantly that-in the unlikely event of a Venatori or Red Templar force penetrating so deep into the mountains- the next time the enemy brought the fight to the Inquisition, they'd be ready for it. The battlements had been repaired from fine stone quarried from stone, and every inch of it was ready to be manned, with ballistae and onagers ready to rain death and destruction on any attacking force, or hopefully if the Maker was with them, shoot Corypheus's monstrous pet out of the sky.

Still others had and continued to find their way to Skyhold from all corners of Thedas; veteran soldiers from Ferelden, servants and tradesmen from Orlais, mercenaries from Antiva and the Free Marches, to name but a few, offering their services to the Inquisition, the Maker and the Inquisitor in exchange for help and shelter. The Inquisition was finding itself with more servants, labourers and cooks than it knew what to do with - everyone that could was being put to work, replenishing the ranks to take the places of men and women killed in battle, working to craft ever more weapons and armour or grow the food needed to equip and feed the Inquisition's ever growing numbers, or simply labouring to continue the task of restoring Skyhold to its former glory. All efforts were contributing marvellously to the Inquisition's strength and credibility, turning the "ragtag band of the deranged, the deluded and the corrupt" they had initially been branded as into a force to be reckoned with.

This day however, Leliana didn't feel much like celebrating their progress.

It had been several weeks since the incident in Halamshiral, where they had placed Gaspard on the throne with Briala at his back, pulling the strings, granting her, the elven people-and her patrons in the Inquisition- an unprecedented amount of power in Orlais and the wider world, thanks to the Empire's connections. Many of Skyhold's people saw this as a great victory for the Inquisition, and as did Leliana for a day or so- until she heard that... that _she_ would be coming to stay at the castle, to help in the fight against Corypheus.

Even before they received the invitation to Halamshiral, Leliana had known who the Empress had kept as her Arcane Advisor. In the War Council's meetings, she would often avoid talking about the Winter Palace Ball in an attempt to rid her mind of the woman who had saved her lover's life, albeit at a cost that still rankled in the back of Leliana's mind. During their time at Halamshiral, Leliana had even seen the woman a handful of times, and at one point their eyes had met across the grand ballroom, before the witch gave a curt nod and walked away.

So naturally, once they had returned to Skyhold, Leliana had retreated to her spiderhole in the Rookery and she stayed there, too nervous that she would run into her old travelling companion. Or more precisely, her old travelling companion's child. The witch's son.

 _Arthur's_ son...

The thought sent an icy shiver down the spymaster's back, and caused her to completely lose focus on the report in front of her. She sighed in defeat and stood from her seat, stretching her legs as she rose. Leliana moved to the window, looking down at the castle grounds beneath her, her eyes searching for her daughter. Inevitably, she found Cecily running into the gardens, smiling at the sight of whatever mischief her little girl had gotten herself into, but Leliana's next sight was less welcome; a young boy hot on her trail, his right arm outstretched as if to grab the girl's shoulder, both so intent on their game they all but bowled over Cyrene Lavellan as she was walking towards one of the garden's benches, sending the collection of papers in her hands- diplomatic notes from Josephine, reports of battles and skirmishes compiled by Cullen and a small journal Leliana had seen the Inquisitor accept from Solas moments before- flying in all directions. Leliana recognised the game as one she'd played when she'd been the same age, and watched on as the youths continued their game, only now with the addition of the irate Inquisitor pursuing the both of them, shouting a litany of spells, curses and frankly impractical threats about what she'd do when she caught up with them. Both were laughing as they ran, Cecily looking back over her shoulder as she turned sharply, ducking out from under the grasp of her pursuer's arm and urging Kieran to run faster.

This had become a habit for the children; playing together, chatting together, even exploring unknown rooms and winding passages up and down the length of the castle together. Leliana had been uneasy at first when Cecily had settled into bed one night and had told her mother of the latest adventure of the day, the main one being meeting her new friend Kieran, who Leliana knew instantly was the witch's son. The following nights had followed a similar pattern-listening to Iron Bull's war stories and Varric's tall tale-telling in the tavern, running odd jobs to help Cole improve the moods of the people around the castle, grooming and feeding the horses in the stables under the supervision of Master Dennet and Blackwall, running out of the kitchens with the last of the blueberry tarts in their hands and an annoyed Cassandra after them...

She couldn't deny she was uneasy about their newfound friendship; more than once, Leliana had thought of telling her concerns to Mother Giselle, or Josephine maybe. But once she had seen the boy from her window, playing happily with her daughter, she pushed the thought away. She hadn't seen Cecily nearly as happy as she was with Kieran for a long time; though she didn't regret her decision to take her daughter away from the Fereldan court for her protection after what had happened at Haven and an attempt by the Venatori to assassinate King Alistair in his own palace, she knew it was a bleak and lonely existence high up in the mountains. Unlike at the royal court in Denerim, where Cecily had been surrounded by the sons and daughters of the nobility, there were few children of her own age to keep her company at Skyhold, and as a mother, the last thing Leliana wanted to do was destroy the girl's happiness by forbidding Cecily to talk to her new friend. Plus, Leliana knew her daughter well enough to know that banning Cecily from spending time with Kieran would achieve nothing; if she forbade her daughter anything, that immediately became Cecily's heart's desire.

Another reason she couldn't speak of her concerns was that, deep down, some part of her was grateful to the boy. If it hadn't been for his conception, she would have lost Arthur to the Archdemon. It allowed her and Arthur to have a child of their own, to marry and try for a life together. It allowed Arthur to go in search of a cure for the taint. She could never hate Kieran for giving her all that, despite who his mother was.

The children tumbling to the ground had brought her out of her thoughts. She saw Cecily nod to Keiran, and the pair split up, extorting a frustrated growl and a fresh litany of Dalish curses from Cyrene Lavellan as the Inquisitor's marked hand clenched shut on air where her daughter's shoulder had been seconds before. Leliana watched as the elf paused, trying to decide which ragamuffin to chase down first, before settling on Cecily. Leliana smiled at the display, before her attention was brought elsewhere, her smile disappearing quickly.

Her gaze was stolen away from the pair running from the elf, to a dark haired woman sat on one of the garden's benches, shaking her head in amusement at the spectacle. Her dark locks swayed in front of her golden eyes as she shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. She had dispensed with the ornate reddish-black ball gown Leliana had seen her wear at Halamshiral; instead, to Leliana's amazement, Morrigan was wearing the same attire she had donned when they first met in Lothering back at the start of the Fifth Blight, the ragged purple vest that seemed to be for the purpose of exposing her ample bosom rather than covering it, adorned with the same collection of feathers, beads and magical charms and fetishes whose purpose escaped Leliana, along with the black leggings that clung to her limbs. Leliana could also see that child-birth hadn't taken its toll on her body; Morrigan looked as trim and slender as she had all those years ago.

Before she could look away from the woman who had plagued her mind with worry all those years ago, the witch shifted her gaze from the children on the ground and looked up at the spymaster, her smile receding when their eyes met. The dark haired woman gave a tight smile, which Leliana forced herself to return. She couldn't quite place it, but something was... _off_ about the apostate. True, Leliana hadn't even spoken to her, but there was something in her appearance - in her pale gold eyes - that had changed. They were missing something.

Before Leliana could speculate further on what was missing, she found herself heading towards the stairs that led to the castle's gardens. She couldn't explain what had goaded her to do so, but she knew she had to meet with the witch again.

* * *

Stopping under the archway which blocked her view of the gardens, Leliana took a deep breath. A small part of her was telling her to back away, that it wasn't too late to run back to the Rookery and attempt to finish looking over at the reports. She shook her head, taking another breath before stepping forward, drawing a sense of calm confidence from the peaceful atmosphere and scent of freshly cut flowers from the soil beds, the scent of blood lotus particularly strong, as Cyrene favoured growing large quantities of it for use in the grenades she liked to carry in large abundance into battle.

Cecily and Kieran were still running for their lives from the pursuing Inquisitor, racing down the staircase that led from the battlements into the garden with the elf hot on their heels. Many of the guards and servants about the place were watching the spectacle from the alcoves or the balconies overlooking the garden, laughing, clapping and cheering Cyrene on, which only seemed to infuriate the elf more as she continued her unrelenting pursuit of the two youths, this time out through the garden and into the great hall.

Not too far away, the witch had moved from her bench, and was now stood under one of the archways looking into the garden, languidly leaning against the wall. Leliana noticed how the woman wasn't watching the game anymore, but rather looking over to the Bard; the look in her eyes made it clear that she had expected Leliana to come.

Moving from her place under the tree, the apostate began to walk toward the spymaster, smiling at her son as he looked at her as he and Cecily passed. In that instant, Leliana knew what was missing from the witch. The casual cruelty and arrogance that had come so easily to her were both seemingly gone; all the sharp edges had been sanded down. Leliana glanced back at Kieran and smirked. _'Becoming a mother has done that woman a world of good_ ,' she thought.

Catching sight of Leliana, the witch motioned for the bard to approach with an inclination of her head. There was a silent pause as the two women stood watching the game, before the witch ended it with a chuckle. "She favours you in looks, but I think there's plenty of her father's spirit in there too," she commented. She looked over to Leliana, a small smile prying at her lips. "She's a credit to you both" Morrigan said with a sincerity to her words Leliana knew wouldn't have been there ten years ago.

"Thank you" Leliana replied curtly, an awkward silence following for a few moments before Leliana attempted a compliment of her own. "Kieran…he seems like a fine young man".

Morrigan made a noise of agreement as she idly inspected her nails, watching as the two ran back into the garden and ducked behind a stand of blood lotus flowers. "He always has," she replied. Another long pause followed (broken only by the sound of Cyrene spotting the hiding children with a gleeful yell) until Morrigan addressed the dragon in the room.

"When did Arthur tell you the truth?"

"A few weeks after Cecily was born". Leliana still remembered the look of anguish on her husband's face as he made his confession of that sin, the wellspring of betrayal, grief and fury that exploded in her chest at his words, the litany of curses and insults she'd screamed at him, the look of dismayed horror as she struck him full across the face, followed by several objects aimed at his head (a bejewlled goblet and the Thorn of the Dead Gods he'd given her as a token of love during their courtship during the Blight among them), before seizing their crying daughter from a cradle, hitting him full in the face again when he tried to stop her from leaving and threatening to make a eunuch of him if he dared to follow her, her last look at him sunken on the floor beside the door frame in despairing sorrow as she slammed it behind them and ran for the Vigil's stables before he could come after her.

"When Arthur told me what you did…I was so angry, I wanted to hate the both of you, to think you both beyond my forgiveness. For a long time, I did. I was so angry at the time...I said many terrible things about him, about you both. I threatened to divorce him, that he would never see our daughter if I had my way. I took Cecily and hid away at court for a time. Alistair knew something was wrong but he was kind enough not to pry...at least until the tension in the palace got too much for him, and apparently the rest of the court to bear"

"Tension?" Morrigan probed.

"Arthur found where I and Cecily was; I wouldn't see him, but he refused to leave until I did. Everytime he tried to talk to me, I fled to another part of the palace to evade him. That lasted for days, with my face apparantly enough to terrify the servants and curdle milk...until finally Alistair tricked me into a walk with him in the palace gardens, locked me and Arthur in there and orderered the guards not to let us out until we'd settled things..." In her mind's eye, she still remembered that grey summer day, shaking the wrought iron gates locked in front of her, shrieking a litany of curses, insults and threats at Alistair's retreating back (most insulting his heritage, claiming he was the product of the union between one of his parents and some form of farm animal, along with a catalogue of the elaborate, violent and in some cases, impractical things she'd do when she got her hands on him), demanding he bring back Cecily, asleep in the king, her godfather's arms (Alistair having refused to, in his own words, 'let a little girl be used as a weapon in whatever madness is going on between you two'), continuing to shriek at him long after Alistair was gone from sight, and only then reluctantly turning to face the garden's other occupant with a wrathful glare as he stood watching her with sad, regretful eyes besides the fountain at the garden's centre. By the start of their talking, they'd been practically shouting at each other; by its end, when she'd finally let him have his say, once he'd told her what he'd done and why, made clear that he knew the consequences of his actions and the fact he would live with them for the end of his days, Leliana, while not quite in the mood to forgive him, was at least willing to walk the path of marriage again and allow Arthur to earn a second chance. She was still angry with the both of them, but deep down a part of her knew Morrigan and Arthur hadn't done what they had to hurt her; their motives, if not their actions, had been pure.

Leliana shook her head, wondering if what she was about to say next was something she really out to tell the witch. She let out a breath before turning to the witch. "Thank you, Morrigan," she said sincerely. "If you hasn't proposed that... if you hadn't offered, I would have lost him. I would have lost them both. Maker, Cecily might never have been born to me without your...' _intervention_ '. I... thank you."

Morrigan's smile had disappeared as she listened, and she looked over to the spymaster again. "Do not think that what I did was completely out of charity," she replied. "T'was more for myself than for him."

"Even if it was for selfish reasons, I cannot be ungrateful for my family," Leliana insisted. "As I'm sure you aren't ungrateful for Kieran, no?"

Morrigan gave a light chuckle and nodded, before looking out to her son. "I suppose not" she replied. There was another silence as the two women went to their own thoughts. "Kieran and I have been here for nearly a week, and I have noticed that Arthur seems to not be present," the witch commented to break the silence.

Leliana nodded, her eyes growing sombre. "He's been gone from Ferelden for several years now. His last message to me a few months ago said he had landed in Qunandar, along with Oghren and several other Wardens who volunteered to accompany him. He wrote that they hoped to gain an audience with several scholars there who might be able to offer a new insight into their searches. That is just one avenue he is following in pursuit of his goal…"

"What does he seek?" Morrigan asked curiously.

"A cure for the taint. It's taken him years to get to this point, but...but he's confident he's close to the end of his search".

Both women could tell the atmosphere had changed at Leliana's words; however, Morrigan's curiosity was far from sated for them to stop their talk.

"I would have thought he'd have returned by now," she said idly. "I went to Ferelden, but-"

"You've tried to find him?" Leliana questioned, surprised by the admission.

Morrigan nodded. "Many years ago, when Kieran was much younger; like all children who grow up knowing only one parent, he wanted to know where he came from, who he owes parts of himself to. He knows that his father was a good man, but I had hoped they would meet, if only once. I was certain the last time Arthur and I met, back in 9:32 when I was researching the eluvians that it wouldn't be a good idea, but now I'm not so sure. It would be good for Kieran to know his father; considering some of the men I have met in my travels, I would want the example for Kieran to follow to be Arthur, the best of them...and Kieran seems very enthusiastic about the thought; back when I first mentioned it and then tried to change his mind, he wouldn't hear of it. My son can be quite stubborn when the mood takes him, as I imagine your daughter is" Morrigan opined, and for a moment, Leliana wondered if Morrigan had known about her earlier discomfort about Cecily and Kieran befriending each other.

"Another thing they've gotten from their father..." Morrigan opined, and both of them laughed together for the first time, remembering how boneheaded and stubborn the father of their children could be, as they had seen him be during their travels together. Thinking back to all those years ago, Leliana remembered Morrigan promising that they would never see her again, that after the Archdemon was defeated, she would leave the world and not return. Looking to her now, Leliana could see that the witch had grown considerably since they last met. Morrigan was willing to put Kieran before herself, believing that her child had a right to know who his father was, and even more, to meet him. The Morrigan she'd known a decade ago would have never allowed that to happen. "He's changed you," Leliana told her.

In that spilt second, Leliana saw a glimpse of the old Morrigan in the scowl that crossed. "Don't be absurd," she scoffed. Leliana smiled at her haste in denial, but chose not to press the matter by teasing Morrigan any further, changing the subject.

"Where did you go, Morigan?" Leliana felt compelled to ask. "Your disappearing act after the Battle of Denerim left so many questions…"

Morrigan sighed deeply, as if the memory of her choices since the end of the Fifth Blight still haunted her. Leliana had never expected to see regret on Morrigan's face- the witch had always, in their youthful adventures with the Wardens, been so self-assured, so confident that she knew the best course of action- but the expression on the other woman's face could only be that emotion.

"Tevinter was my first choice of refuge. I needed to locate as much information as I could about the Old Gods, and the heartland of magical power seemed at the time a safe place for myself to hide and gather strength until Kieran was born and could come into his own. I passed myself off as a progeny of that smirking worm Caladrius- with anyone who knew otherwise lynched in the back alleys of Denerim's alienage, there was no one to challenge the claim, or perhaps no one in the Imperium who cared. I found myself a…a 'patron' and used him to gain access to the libraries and private collections of Minrathous, Vyrantium, Qarinius…I learned a great deal in my time there thanks to that 'arrangement', information that I sorely needed, and as for my 'patron', I only had to endure his presence sparingly, only having to debase myself with practices beneath me a few times. A few months after our arrival in the Imperium, he was seconded to the latest Tevinter military debacle with the intention of pushing the Qunari off Seheron, and I never saw him again before my departure".

"Departure?" Leliana asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I left Tevinter under something of a cloud…as you might expect when you rob your patron blind, kill three of his acolytes and set his villa on fire to cover your escape" Morrigan explained, pausing with a slight laugh at the incredulous look on Leliana's face at the throwaway manner she described making an enemy of a powerful magister in.

"But why did you leave? If you were set up so well in the Imperium, why cast it all aside and return to the south-?"

"Because I wanted no part of that place for myself or my son. _Especially_ not for Kieran" Morrigan retorted, and Leliana felt a sense of approval at the witch's word. The Morrigan she had known a decade ago would never have put the wellbeing of another ahead of her own ambitions. ' _For all her protestations, motherhood has changed her for the better'._

"Tevinter might have been the birthplace of Man's civilisation in Thedas, but now it is a rotting carcass of its former glory, the bones slowly being picked clean by the Qunari and its own kind, drowning in a fugue of self-aggrandizing delusion and decadence that are steadily failing to hide from Tevinter's population that its rulers have all but lost their war with the Qunari and are only concerned with clinging onto their perceived rightful status by any means necessary. And that knowledge is breeding dangerous things – the nationalist sentiment that created the likes of the Venatori was rampantly prevalent in the Imperium long before Corypheus came to prominence. Many of the younger generations amongst the Magisterium, my patron among them, felt the only way to turn the tide against the Qunari was to try and ape the might of the ancients, either too arrogant to realise or uncaring of the likelihood that trying to replicate the actions of the ancient magisters would only result in as great a disaster as it did for the ancients, if not more so. I can only assume that Corypheus was willing to indulge them when the Magisterium would not, and I am willing to wager many of those I encountered during my time in the Imperium have risen high in the ranks of the Venatori. I can provide you with names, locations, details of what kind of forces such men and women command. These zealots need to be stopped before they and their master obliterate this world, and I will provide you with _anything_ I can that aids you in bringing them to heel…and proves my dedication to your cause" she added with a sly smile. Leliana nodded in gratitude for the information, glad to see yet more evidence of how Morrigan had changed, her self-serving demeanour and willingness to keep matters of value hoarded to herself gone, or at least diminished from before.

Their eyes were taken from each other when Cecily and Kieran had, once again, tumbled over each other as Cyrene leapt on them with a howling Dalish battle cry, wrapping her slender arms around their necks, though they could see in the elf's emerald eyes that she was merely contributing to the game. Leliana smiled in amusement before indicating to Morrigan that they should probably go rescue their children from the Inquisitor. As they made to get up, a thought came to her. "Do you think we should tell them that they're brother and sister?" Leliana asked the witch. Part of her wondered if they didn't know already; both were clever, and could probably have made the deduction themselves... _'Would it bring them even closer? Or just taint what they have now?'_

Morrigan looked toward the children again, considering what good could come from them knowing about their shared blood. Eventually, she shook her head. "No," she said. "What good would it do? T'would be far kinder in the end that they didn't know."


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry about the delay in this; I've been buried with work and focusing on other writing projects over the last few weeks, but I've finally gotten the next installment done, detailing the confrontation between Morrigan and Flemeth (one of my favourite moments in DA Inquisition) while throwing Leliana into the mix to match it up with the canon of From the Ashes. Truth be told, I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter has come out, but I kinda feel if I don't wrap this up and call it done, I never would. Just one more chapter to go, detailing Leliana, Morrigan, Kieran and Cecily's farewell before Morrigan and son depart Skyhold following Corypheus's death. Hopefully that one won't take me as long as this._

 _Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 ** _Skyhold, two weeks after the Battle of the Arbor Wilds_**

 _Cecily returned the goshawk to its perch, finished with trying to pass the time with hawking for the day. The raptor had been a gift from Uncle Fergus for her ninth name-day when she'd expressed an interest in trying falconry in her uncle's earshot, which had prompted him to purchase the bird on her arm from one of the finest falconers in all Ferelden, and had prompted Mother and Father to insist her uncle was shamelessly spoiling her, as usual._

 _Uncle Fergus always doted on her when she visited Highever, but under the smiles and warmth, Cecily felt sure there was a great sadness to her uncle, as though he was smiling to keep himself succumbing to misery. She knew that her uncle had once been married, and that the aunt and cousin she had never known had died, along with her grandparents on her father's side, in the earliest days of the Fifth Blight, but she didn't know the circumstances; Mother had warned her when she was younger **never** to talk about her late aunt Oriana and cousin Oren in her uncle's presence (in addition to warning her also never to mention the name Rendon Howe to either her uncle or her father) while Father had promised, before he left on his journey into the west, that he would tell her the truth when she was a little older._

 _"_ Maybe I can take Cole with me the next time I visit Highever _" Cecily thought to herself. "_ He might know a way to make Uncle Fergus happy _". The compassionate young man had such a gift for helping people and Cecily had often thought her uncle would make a good match with the wealthy heiress Bella, the founder of the Dragon's Fire Brewery that her father had helped the former tavern wench, an acquaintance of his from Redcliffe, invest in following the end of the Fifth Blight. She was always travelling to the cities of Ferelden with the caravans that transported her wares for sale to the taverns, winesinks and drinking dens of the people, as well as the manors and castles of the powerful. Her easygoing manner and impish smile always seemed to charm Uncle Fergus when she came to Highever..._ 'Perhaps Cole could help me set something up between them' _she thought, deciding to try and find Cole in his hidey-hole above the tavern and ask if he felt like a visit to Highever. Maker knew she needed something to do._

 _With Skyhold all but deserted with the bulk of the Inquisition's forces still slowly returning from their triumph over the Elder One's forces in the jungle far to the south, there was even less for Cecily to do than usual. Some of the higher echelons of the Inquisition had returned; both her mother and Kieran's, Inquisitor Lavellan and most of her companions who had travelled south to war, Commander Cullen, Lady Cassandra, Auntie Josephine, but most of them were busy with their own duties, either pursuing and mopping up the last remnants of the Venatori and the Red Templars still on the loose, or trying to track down and run to ground the Elder One himself. As a result, no one had much time to spend with her- even Mother seemed buried in her work- and Kieran...ever since The Inquisitor had returned from the Arbor Wilds, he'd been acting really strangely, asking her if she could hear whispers in the air, voices that only he seemed to hear. It both unnerved and concerned her, particularly now she and Kieran had worked out what they were, even if their mothers hadn't seen fit to tell them that fact. It, on top of their friendship, made her worry about him as she had no idea what was plaguing Kieran, or how she could help him._

 _Cecily headed down the stairs from her quarters, stepping aside as Master Solas emerged from a side passage holding more papers and books that he'd taken from the library. Cecily didn't know what to make of the elf; he was always polite and courteous, and he seemed to have a genuine fondness for the two children, particularly when they proved so willing to listen to his stories of the past, of elven history and his adventures through the Fade, but there was always such a sense of sadness to him. Cecily had seen it in his eyes; a look of regret, hidden but still there, as if he was doing all this to make up for some major wrong he had done the children...or was going to do._

 _"Afternoon, ser" Cyrene greeted the elven mage, bowing in the courtly fashion._

 _"To you as well, da'len" Solas replied with a smile, inclining his head. "If you're looking for your young friend, I'm pretty sure I saw him heading into the garden a few moments ago. He seemed very determined if I may say so". Giving her thanks and taking her leave from the elf, Cecily hastened her pace to the gardens, where in the distance, she saw Kieran heading into a side chamber off the garden; she knew which one. Darting through the crop stands, calling a hurried apology to Mother Giselle as she clipped the Revered Mother in her haste, Cecily threw open the door just in time to see Kieran place a hand on the only thing within- the mysterious elven mirror that he had shown her days ago, supposedly a relic from before their conquest by the Tevinter Imperium- and Cecily let out a gasp as the mirror's dull, amber-hued surface came alive, turning the deep blue of the open ocean. Kieran took a step forward, as if about to fall into the water and Cecily darted forward, crying out her friend's name; she had no idea what would happen if he went through, but she was willing to bet it wouldn't be good._

 _"Kieran!" she pleaded, grabbing his right hand, trying to get him to stop...and Kieran stepped into the mirror, pulling Cecily along with him._ _They walked for what seemed like miles, Cecily tugging on Kieran's hands and barely slowing him down; the briefest glimpses she got of his face, it was blank, emotionless, like a sleepwalker. The place the mirror had brought them- and she knew they had travelled far from Skyhold, Kieran having told her the mirrors were how the ancient elves had travelled from one end of Thedas to the other- was no less unsettling- a strange landscape of endless canyons and cliff faces dripping with moisture against a skyline that had the bloody orange hue of a permenant sunset, broken only by floating chunks of black rock that looked suspiciously to Cecily's eyes like pieces of an ancient city, fallen to ruins and set into the sky- was making her deeply uneasy. She wanted nothing more than to turn back the way she came, but she wasn't going to leave without Kieran, and wherever he was going, he showed no signs of stopping or slowing, and thus she couldn't turn back._ 'I don't think he even knows what he's doing or where he's going' _Cecily mused. His behaviour reminded her of the tales Mother had told her about sirens who lured men to their deaths with their haunting songs, ones their prey couldn't resist until it was too late, and it made her imagination run wild with thoughts of what was leading Kieran on._

 _After an indeterminate amount of time, they finally came to a dead end at the end of the canyon path they had been following and as Cecily let go of Kieran's hand as he suddenly came to a stop, she noticed the smallest, most subtle change pass over him; he blinked and the spell was broken, Kieran seemed to at last become aware. His eyes cast about his surroundings, taking in where he actually was...and then he saw her._

 _"Cecily!" Kieran yelped as he finally took in her presence, his gaze brightening as if wakening from a dream. "You can't be here! She called to me; if she finds you here as well...please, you have to go!"_

 _"What are you talking about? Who's 'she'? Why does she want you? Where are we?!" Cecily demanded, but Kieran only frantically shook his head._

 _" **Please** , you have to get out of here! Before she-" but then his eyes went wide with fear as the sound of a loud, concussive thud that Cecily recognised instantly; she sound made by the beating of a High Dragon's wings. Cecily desperately cast her eyes about for the predator, expecting to feel the burn of flames washing over, but there was no sign, no great shadow falling over them, no reptilian roar, no smell of charred carrion that should presage a dragon's approach..._

 _"Well, well, well" An intrigued woman's voice remarked directly behind the little girl. "What have we here?"_

 _Before she could turn around to see the speaker, something soft struck Cecily in the back of the head. She pitched face first towards the sodden ground, barely feeling Kieran's hands grasp her shoulders in a bid to catch her fall as the darkness took her._

* * *

It took some time for the children's absence to be noted; after all, by this point they were notorious for wandering the castle and turning up in the most unexpected of places- everyone in Skyhold still remembered the time they'd torn the castle apart when the pair had seemingly gone missing, only to be found several hours later in the stable's hayloft, fast asleep with the remnants of a tray of lemon cakes pilfered from the kitchens laid about them- but this time, there seemed to be no trace of them anywhere in their usual haunts- not in Cole's hidey-hole above the tavern, not in the spider-web filled library in the deep recesses of Skyhold below the great hall, nor the quarters above Cullen's office in the gatehouse. As the hours passed, there was still no sign of them, despite an ever increasing number of the castle staff joining the search. But it was only when Solas mentioned in passing to the Inquisitor that he had sent Cecily into the garden after Kieran that the search yielded results. While other searchers began to comb the storerooms and the guest rooms above the gardens, Morrigan raced for one just off the garden, Cyrene behind her with Leliana limping after them, the leg wound she'd received from a Red Templar's mace in the dying moments of the battle still plaguing her. When Cyrene had claimed the power and knowledge of the Well of Sorrows, when the corrupted dragon had fled the field, angling its course north away from the Arbor Wilds with the Elder One astride its back and as realisation began to filter through the ranks of what was left of the still fighting Venatori and Red Templars that their efforts had failed and their master had abandoned them, they had chosen to go down fighting. Leliana's injuries had only been amongst the most minor- with their utter defeat certain, Corypheus's lackeys had fought with the savagery of cornered rats; numerous of the Inquisition's forces had lost their lives in the closing moments of the battle before the elven defenders of the temple, who had previously not made any distinctions between the two forces fighting it out in their territory before, emerged from the Temple of Mythal and hit the Inquisition's enemies on both flanks, their innate agility and familiarity with the jungle terrain giving them the advantage over the cultists. Fighting off attacks on three fronts, Corypheus's army had finally broken and fled into the jungle in search of an escape that didn't exist. The Inquisition had broken off pursuit, too exhausted and badly mauled to continue fighting, simply relieved to have carried the day, but the Temple elves had had no such reservation, chasing down the fleeing invaders with the clear intent of slaughtering every last one of the interlopers. Judging by the periodic screams they could hear in the distance through the nights as the Inquisition began to withdraw from the Arbor Wilds, it was a goal they were succeeding at.

Morrigan flung open the room's door, and let out a cry of dismay as all saw what lay in; the eluvian, its surface writhing and shimmering like sunlight on water. "It's been activated- he must have-!" Morrigan began, before charging forward straight into the mirror before either of the others could stop her. Wanting to follow Morrigan, but not wanting to venture into the unknown unarmed, Leliana and Cecily seized a runner, sending them to the armoury for weapons; they had no idea where Kieran had gone, or where the eluvian would take them, and they wanted to be prepared. Cyrene grasped the staff the runner placed in her hand as Leliana fastened the quiver of arrows she'd been given to her back and tested the bowstring of her longbow as they made to follow the witch.

The sight that greeted them as they emerged from the mirror was _nothing_ like they had expected; leaden skies, canyons dripping with moisture, fragments of what looked like the remnants of a city fashioned from black stone levitating high above their heads, statues that wept blood, wooden bookcases fused into the very stone; all the dreams and nightmares of mortal minds made manifest. "Wait" Cyrene protested. "This isn't the Crossroads; this is _the Fade! How_ did the eluvian lead here?!"

They found Morrigan a short distance ahead of them in a clearing, desperately looking about her, clearly unsure what path to take to follow, looking like any parent gripped by terror at the thought their child might be in danger and they were not able to protect them.

"How did Kieran do this?!" Morrigan wailed. "The power to make the eluvian reach the Fade...he could be anywhere in this place by now" but Leliana barely heard her, thoughts focused on one thing; _Cecily is here_. If Solas was right, and he'd set Cecily after Kieran, no doubt thinking only the best, then Leliana didn't doubt that if Kieran had come through the eluvian to here, then Cecily must have followed. Terror gripped her, followed by anger as the darker thoughts at the back of her mind, the evil traces of her old self, whispered that her instincts had been right, that nature couldn't be changed, that she'd been right to want nothing to do with Morrigan and her son, that Cecily wouldn't be here if not for them...the rasp of steel cut through her thoughts and the silence as Leliana's hand pulled free the knife at her belt.

"Enough!" Cyrene yelped, looking shocked, but Leliana paid her no heed, seeing only red.

"If _anything_ happens to my daughter here, if she comes to _**any**_ harm because of him, I will hold you both personally responsible!" Leliana snarled as she pressed Morrigan against a pillar of rock, the knife in her hand an inch from the witch's eye. Before she could use it, however, Morrigan shoved her back, her own expression one of fury at the attack.

"You think I'm any less worried about them?! You think I wanted this to happen?!" the apostate demanded as she began to channel power for a spell, her fingers lengthening and contorting into claws as she seemed ready to shape-shift...

Before the pair could do harm to one another, however, a blast of concussive force knocked them both back. The pair rounded on the source of the force spell that had separated them, to see Cyrene, her staff raised and a defiant expression on her face, as if daring them to say something.

"If you two are quite finished, perhaps you'd care to remember that your children are somewhere out here, and the longer you waste trying to turn each other's eyeballs into earrings, the greater the risk of Kieran and Cecily running into something out here that means to do them harm!"

Those words cut through Morrigan and Leliana's arguing like a blade, the anger bleeding out of them to be replaced by dread. Looking and feeling deeply ashamed, they opened their mouths to say something- a protest, an apology- but Cyrene stopped them with a raised hand.

"Say whatever it is you want to say when we've gotten out of here with the children safe and sound" Cyrene snapped, before dropping to the muddy ground to examine tracks left by someone's passage, something that the bard and witch had ignored in their panic and irrational anger. Leliana was surprised- she knew Cyrene was Dalish, but she's been a First to the clan's Keeper, which suggested a more scholarly and less active, outdoorsy bent to her life.

"They came this way, and look at the deep gouges left by one set of footprints; at a guess, from the size I'd say Kieran was moving swiftly and Cecily was trying to hold him back-what?!" Cyrene demanded at the stunned expressions on the two older women's faces at her analysis.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like much of a tracker" Morrigan opined. "I wasn't aware Dalish Firsts did much hunting..."

"Normally, you'd be right, but my brother was the finest hunter our clan had produced for generations and he taught me a few tricks. I might not be able to shoot an arrow to hit a bulls-eye thirty yards away or bring down a deer with a single shot, but I know how to follow a trail, track animals by their spoor and learn what I can from their passing. Speaking of which, getting back to why we're here, there's something else..." Cyrene's brow furrowed as she reached out with the marked hand, magical traces following in the air behind her hand as she cast about herself, a confused, wary look on her face..

"I can feel the passage of something...some entity of the Fade, following in the children's wake, curious about them. Whatever it was, it was old, powerful, and I can feel the ripples around us of other spirits fleeing before its presence. Whatever this thing following them was, everything else in this part of the Fade was **_terrified_** of it".

* * *

The tracks led them to through the demented canyons and wilderness of the Fade to the end of a great ravine that opened out into a great stone arena; there was only one way in or out, which suggested whatever had brought them here, it had left them with no choice but to enter if they wanted to. They hesitated for an instant, before realising they had no choice but to enter if they wanted to get the children back.

Within, Leliana saw a sight that almost made her heart stop; Cecily, lying motionless on a flat boulder, eyes closed, hands spread across her chest, looking for all the world like something out of the tales the bard had always loved, like a princess cursed to lie under an enchanted sleep by a witch's curse until awoken by her love's kiss. Beside them, Kieran stood over her, casting what looked like minor spells and summoning wisps into being, much to the amusement of the only other person present, who seemed to be humouring the boy with good natured applause at his antics. The sound of Cyrene, Leliana and Morrigan's approach caused him to look round, and Kieran's eyes lit up at the sight of the newcomers.

 _"_ Mother!" Kieran called out, beckoning the three of them to come closer. Morrigan's eyes, however, were fixed on the figure stood beside the boy, her eyes narrowed angrily, and when she repeated her son's words, her tone made them a curse.

"Mother".

Leliana looked beyond them to the rock on which Cecily was splayed out. For a moment, she feared the worst, until she saw the rise and fall of her daughter's chest and let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She then turned her attention to the figure watching them from the other side of the clearing with predatory interest. Though it had been more than ten years since Leliana had last looked upon that face, she would never forget it until the day she died. It had haunted the depths of her nightmares since she was a little girl first hearing the tale to which it belonged, and seeing it in the flesh had only secured its place there.

The woman looked to be in her early forties, her skin as pristine and flawless as sculpted marble, with a strong chin and high cheekbones reminiscent of Morrigan's face. A circlet forged of dark iron, its circumference ringed with spikes, was set on her brow, holding back a mane of snow white locks from a smooth forehead, with portions of the glossy white hair styled into horns that resembled those of a ram's...or a dragon's. The rest hung loosely about her armour-clad shoulders, covered in pauldrons and a cuirass of studded leather dyed the colour of dried blood, the armour clinging to a lithe curvaceous form, while cloth ribbons of the same shade of red wrapped the ends of the 'horns' of hair and bracers, gauntlets, greaves and boots fashioned from the same iron as the circlet covered the woman's arms and legs, their edges tipped with vicious spikes. Rich, full lips painted a deep cherry red were drawn in an amused, if cold, smile.

"Now isn't this a surprise?" Flemeth noted, a wry edge to the smirk that crossed her lips.

"So what is this?" the nonplussed Cyrene asked, eyes darting between mother and daughter. "Some kind of...family reunion?". Flemeth chuckled darkly at that.

"Mother, daughter, grandson...warms the heart, does it not?" she mused, casting a pointed look at Morrigan. As Leliana expected, her old companion's eyes narrowed balefully even as she seemed to swell with anger.

"Kieran is _not_ your grandson! And Cecily means nothing to you either! Let them go!". Flemeth clutched her chest, mockingly acting as if wounded.

"As if I were keeping the children here hostage! She's always been ungrateful, you see" Flemeth bemoaned in the direction of Cyrene and Leliana.

"UNGRATEFUL!?" Morrigan exploded, her fury palpable. "I know how you plan to extend your life, wicked crone! You _will not have me_ , and you _**will not have my son**_!" Morrigan shrieked as she raised her arms, green fire kindling to life in the palms of her hands. Beside her, Leliana nocked and drew back the string of her bow, an arrow aimed for the centre of the witch's forehead. Leliana had no idea if such attacks would do any good, but she wouldn't argue with Morrigan's point; neither of them would allow their child to remain in jeopardy as they saw it any longer.

Flemeth gave a sigh of disappointment, rolling her eyes, and then looked at something behind the pair. "Be a good lass, da'len; restrain these two if you would be so kind".

Before Leliana and Morrigan could react, a second blast of force magic slammed them into the canyon wall, winding them both. Before they could recover, dark green vines burst out of the rock and seized them, binding them at wrist, waist, throat and ankle to the cliff face. Out of the corner of her eye, Leliana saw Cyrene Lavellan approach, her right hand extended, magical power blazing in her grip, coalesced power writhing like serpents at the tips of her fingers. Leliana felt a new sense of terror grip her; she'd seen what Cyrene Lavellan could do in battle, the skill and innate, raw power the elven girl could channel into spells of such strength and destructive fury against their enemies, and now, to have that power turned on her was truly frightening.

"What are you doing?!" Morrigan demanded angrily, as Cyrene made sure their bonds were tight and divested the mage and spymaster of their weapons. As she shouted these words, Leliana noticed that Cyrene's expression was blank, like that of a sleepwalker. Flemeth lowered her hand and then Cyrene seemed to come back to herself, looking mortified at what had happened.

"I don't know!" Cyrene yelled back; Leliana took a look at the elf and saw, though her arms and legs were moving, the elven girl's face wore an expression of horror that said quite clearly whatever she was doing, it was not of her own volition.

"Of course you do. You drank from the well, did you not?" the elder witch opined with an impish smile. Despite her predicament, Morrigan's eyes went wide as all three of them gawped with undisguised astonishment at Flemeth's pronouncement.

" _You_ are _Mythal?!"_ Morrigan gasped, and Leliana found herself staring at Flemeth in disbelief as well. She knew the stories people had told about Flemeth, had heard Morrigan's theories as to what her mother might have been- but they had all expected her to be an abomination, or perhaps a demon that had managed to manipulate a corpse to keep it from decomposing. To realise she was the avatar of some last vestige of the elven Pantheon...such an idea had never crossed their minds.

"You _can't_ be Mythal!" Cyrene protested. "She was an elven goddess; you…you're-!"

" _Human_?" Flemeth suggested with a wry smirk. "That's not a word many have used for me in a _very_ long time, da'len" she noted as she regarded Cyrene with a raptor's gaze .

"What are you?" Cyrene demanded, half uncertain, half fearful, as their eyes met, gold and emerald.

"Once, I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice...and she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and _more._ I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice that was denied her"

"So Mythal is...what? Inside your head?" Cyrene asked.

"She is a part of me, no more seperate than your heart is from your chest" Flemeth retorted.

"And how do you know that wasn't a demon lying to you?" the Inquisitor demanded.

"What do the voices tell you?" she added at the sight of the sceptical expression on the elf's face. Cyrene closed her eyes, listening to whatever the Well of Sorrows had imparted to her. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, her expression awed.

"They say you speak the truth"

"But what was Mythal? A legend given name and called a god, or something more? Truth is not the end, but a beginning" Flemeth cocked her head to one side, studying Cyrene as if she were a new form of insect the witch had found crawling across her arm. "So young, yet so bright and vibrant. You have come so far in so short a time; you do the People proud, da'len. As for me, I have gone by many names, but you may call me Flemeth"

"Flemeth? _The_ Flemeth?! The one my people call Asha'Bellenar, the Woman of Many Years?! I know of you, and the legend the shemlen tell of you; that you were the wife of some shemlen lord who abandoned your husband to elope with a lover. Your husband tricked you into returning, murdered your lover and imprisoned you to await the same fate. Then a spirit called out to you…Mythal" Cyrene finished in an awed whisper.

Flemeth chuckled darkly. "One day, someone will surmise the terrible events of _your_ life in so brusque a fashion...but yes, I was that woman once. More than that, you need not know"

"It's said Flemeth often appears in other tales, helping heroes for her own ends. The Rebel Prince Maric Theirin, Arthur Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden, Samuel Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall...all their tales have borne your influence..."

"I nudge history when it is required. At other times, a shove is needed" Flemeth laughed.

"If Mythal is a part of you, why did you not reveal yourself?"

Cyrene's question seemed to amuse Flemeth. "And to whom should I reveal myself, girl?"

"To the elves?! To anyone! Our people have prayed to you, called to you-"

Flemeth gave a mocking cackle. "I knew the hearts of men _long_ before Mythal came to me! It is _why_ she came to me! The elvhen, the shemlen, the dur'genlen...they do not _want_ the truth and I...I am but a shadow lingering in the sun" Her expression turned sombre as she added with a thougtful look at Cyrene, as if aware of each and every prayer the elves had cried to her, hearing every cry for justice, every plea for retribution against the People's enemies, and yet could nothing to help. "What was could not be again".

"Why did Mythal come to you?"

"For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens!" Flemeth retorted.

"And you follow her whims?" Morrigan, still struggling against her bonds, sneered. "Do you even know what she truly is?!"

"You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end?" Flemeth retorted. "It is because I taught you, girl. Because things happened that were never meant to happen. She was betrayed, as I was betrayed, as _the world_ was betrayed! Mythal _crawled_ and _clawed_ her way through the ages to _me_... ** _AND I WILL SEE HER AVENGED!_** " Flemeth roared balefully, before the anger seemed to bleed out of her, to replaced by a bitter sorrow.

"Alas, so long as the music plays, we dance"

"Then why are you here?" Leliana spoke up for the first time, tired of being the bystander in this conversation. "If your interests are solely Morrigan and the Inquisitior, why did you take my daughter? If this is all part of some petty vengeance for what happened in the Korcari Wilds ten years ago..."

"Your daughter by the Warden means nothing to me, nightingale" Flemeth opined, forestalling any further words from the bard. "As I said to you and your blighted husband all those years ago, I have no interest in the futile pursuit of vengeance. I did not call your child here; she came of her own volition- it would seem she has inherited her father's stubborn refusal to back away from trouble and sheer willingness to throw themselves into the thick of it for those who aren't what they seem" Flemeth finished with a pointed look on both of the women, keeping silent at the fact they were both aware she was right. "I am here for one thing, and one thing only" the witch concluded, her gaze falling down on Kieran. All three felt a chill of horror go through their souls at that.

"I won't allow you to take him" Morrigan snarled defiantly.

"He carries a piece of what once was, snatched from the jaws of darkness. You know this".

"No" Morrigan pleaded. "He's just a boy! I _won't_ let you use him!"

"Have _you_ not used him?" Flemeth challenged. "Was that not your purpose? The _reason_ you agreed to his conception?"

"That was then" Morrigan protested desperately. "Now...he is my son". Morrigan took a deep breath to steady herself, then spoke to Cyrene in a tone of voice that held the same level of revulsion it would as if she were up to her elbows sifting through rotten entrails.

Flemeth extends her life by possessing the bodies of her daughters, Inquisitor. That was the fate she intended for me. I…thwarted her, or so I had thought, and now she means to take Kieran in my stead…"

"What are you talking about?" Cyrene demanded, the only one not aware of the significance of the battle being fought for possession of what lay within the boy's soul. Leliana felt her heart go out to Morrigan- while she would always feel disquiet for the magic used to conceive the boy and what it had involved, there was so much she owed him for- the life of her husband and the existence of her daughter, to name but two- and she had no wish to see Kieran harmed as a piece in whatever mad scheme Flemeth had in mind for him.

Flemeth chuckled, placing an affectionate claw on the boy's shoulder. "I am not the only one carrying the soul of an ancient being long thought lost"

"He is more than that, Mother" Morrigan began to protest, before Flemeth cut her off.

"As am I, yet do you hear me complain? Our destinies are not so easily avoided, dear girl"

Cyrene tried to interject on their behalf. "Whatever you may think he is, Kieran is just a boy-"

"That he is...and so much better behaved than his mother was at this age" Flemeth chuckled in amusement, ruffling the boy's hair. Kieran smiled sadly in recognition of the praise, before turning to look his mother in the eye, a solemn but resolute look on his fine boned features, so reminiscent of his father that it sent a chill through Leliana as she imagined the same words spoken with the same determination by _him_.

"I have to go now, Mother".

"You don't belong to her, Kieran!" Morrigan screamed. " _Neither_ of us do!". Flemeth raised an eyebrow at this, as if having been caught completely offguard by Morrigan's stubborn refusal to let the boy go, seemingly amazed that her daughter had developed feelings of care for something other than herself.

"It seems we are at an impasse, so permit me to offer you a compromise; let me take the lad and you are free of me forever. I will not look for you, nor pursue you any longer. Or keep him...in the knowledge that you will _never_ be free of me. I _will_ have my due!"

Morrigan answered in a heartbeat. "He returns with me"

"Decided so quickly?" Flemeth opined, sounding amusedly surprised.

"Do whatever you want to me, but Kieran will be free of your clutches. I am many things, but I _will not_ be the mother you were to me" Morrigan spat and Leliana was both awed and proud at how much Morrigan had changed by her experiences as a mother. Her reaction was not the only one of surprise; Flemeth took a step back in astonishment at her daughter's declaration, as if amazed that Morrigan would say such a thing, before the baleful gleam in her golden eyes died away, as if hurt by the truth of what her daughter was accusing her of having been. Looking away, unable to bear the scrutiny of Morrigan's gaze any longer, Flemeth turned back to Kieran, knelt down until she was eye to eye with the boy and placed a gauntleted hand over Kieran's heart. As they all watched, mist-like tendrils of nebulous, silver-blue light began to slither out of Kieran's chest, forming a glowing orb that shimmered and gleamed in the palm of Flemeth's hand. All of those present stared at it in awe; Cyrene simply for its mystical beauty, Morrigan and Leliana because they recognised it for what it was; a surviving piece of something from another age of the world, redeemed from corruption, saved from death and kept alive. Whatever plans the witches had had for it, Leliana had to admit there was something beautiful about seeing it in its true form, freed from the poisonous influence of the darkspawn's corruption that had contaminated it the last time she'd seen it (or at least its physical shell).

"No more dreams?" Kieran asked plaintively.

"No more dreams" Flemeth promised the boy with a gentle smile and a pat on the cheek, before motioning for him to go to his mother. With a dismissive wave of her hand, the vines binding Leliana and Morrigan to the wall decayed into nothing; freed from their bonds, both women ran for their children, Morrigan seizing her son in her embrace, Leliana checking her daughter's pulse and breathing, satisfying herself Cecily was unharmed physically before gently lifting the sleeping girl into her arms and staring with the others at Flemeth, wanting to understand _why_.

"A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan; you were _never_ in any danger from me. As for you, Inquisitor, far to the west lies an ancient altar, deep within a shaded wood, the last remains of a shrine dedicated to Mythal. Go there and summon forth the dragon that serves as its guardian. Master the beast in combat and it is yours to command against Corypheus. Fail and die". With nothing more to be said, Flemeth turned and departed without another word. Morrigan called out to her, but there came a blinding flash of light and forced them all to shield their eyes. For a moment, Leliana fancied she heard a dragon's roar and the beating of leathery wings moving away from her, but by the time the light died away enough for them to open their eyes, Flemeth was gone.

* * *

The minute they stepped out of the eluvian, they were greeted by an incredible sight: a panic-striken Josephine, along with Cullen and twenty Inquisition soldiers with their swords drawn, having clearly expected something far worse to find its way through the eluvian. Morrigan, however, barely paid any attention to them; all of hers was given to her son.

"Are you alright, Kieran?" Morrigan asked, a tenderness and concern to her voice Leliana had never heard before, but pleased her to hear none the less. "You are not hurt?"

"I feel...lonely" the boy replied plaintively, and his mother hugged him. Cyrene motioned for Cullen and the others to sheath their weapons as Morrigan promised her son "You'll be fine, and so will she" she added, gesturing to Cecily, still motionless aside from the rise and fall of her chest in her mother's arms with a concerned Josephine hovering over her goddaughter as well, both wanting an explanation. "She's fine; merely a sleeping enchantment. She'll come around in a little while, none the worse for wear and likely with no memory of what happened...though she might have quite the headache when she wakes up" Morrigan assured Leliana. Cullen stepped forward as Cyrene asked him "Please, take her up to my quarters; let her sleep it off, she won't be disturbed up there" she promised Leliana as the spymaster gently placed her daughter in Cullen's arms. Leliana turned her attention to Kieran and for a moment, all present tensed, expecting a tirade from the spymaster at the boy for leading her little girl into danger. What actually happened, none of them expected.

"You can stay with her if you want to" Leliana assured Kieran. "I think she'd like you to be there when she wakes up, to know you're safe". Kieran made to follow Cullen out of the room, but stopped, looked down at his feet and murmured "Sorry" to the bard.

"For what?" Leliana asked, confused.

"I didn't mean for her to follow. I told her to go back-"

Leliana ruffled the boy's hair as a means of reassurance that she wasn't angry with him as she bent down to his level to look Kieran in the eye. "What happened wasn't your fault" she said. "Cecily's like her father when it comes to her friends: stubborn as a mule and loyal as a mabari. She absolutely refuses to leave those she cares about behind when they're in trouble, no matter the risk to herself. Believe me, she wouldn't have listened to you if you had told you to leave, so don't beat yourself up about it, okay?". Kieran nodded happily, his sombre mood in the wake of all that had happened buoyed up by the knowledge he'd found such friendship in the form of Cecily. Cullen, Josephine and Kieran left to take Cecily somewhere she could sleep off Flemeth's spell, while Cyrene thanked the Inquisition soldiers for their swift response and dismissed them back to their duties. Once the other ears to listen were gone, the three women exchanged a look and Morrigan let out a heavy sigh.

"Did I do the right thing?" Morrigan asked of them all. "It was the soul of the Old God bound within him she wanted all along, not me as I always feared" Morrigan noted, pausing for a moment to consider the complete reveral of all she had previously thought to be true. "My mother has the soul of an elven goddess- or whatever Mythal truly was- inside her, and whatever plans she has remain a mystery, even to me. Is it worth reminding myself that I do not know everything? I have spent so many years pursuing arcane mysteries" the witch mused "and the greatest might be the one I left behind"

"You truly had no idea what she was?" Cyrene asked, looking as shocked as Morrigan, no doubt amazed that one of the gods of her people, supposedly lost for all eternity, had survived in some shape or form.

"I knew that she kept the truth from me, I suspected that she was _never_ truly human, but _this...!_ " Morrigan shook her head, still clearly disbelieving. "I always assumed the so-called 'elven gods' were little more than glorified rulers, killed when Tevinter conquered their empire, but now...I have doubts, and doubt, Inquisitor, is an uncomfortable thing". Morrigan's expression became inward, introspective as she processed these unwelcome emotions, then raised her head to look Cyrene in the eye, a rueful smile touching her lips.

"I suppose I should be grateful _you_ drank from the Well. Bound to serve my mother for all eternity is not a fate I would choose for myself".

Cyrene chose not to make a remark about the fact _she_ now had to endure that fare and instead addressed the other dragon in the room.

"Flemeth gave the impression that Kieran was more than he appeared to be, and now you say he carried the soul of an Old God- that being what Flemeth took from him before she left, I assume?" Cyrene chanced a look at Leliana, and judging by how the elf's thin eyebrows rose at the sight of her bland expression, the spymaster guessed that the Inquisitor realised she had known this all along. Choosing to leave that matter lie for the moment, Cyrene pressed her interrogation of Morrigan.

" _How_ did he come to possess that?!"

"Before I came to care...to love him as my son, I, to my shame, had, as Flemeth said, planned to use him for my own ends, to serve as a vessel for incalculable power. Using magic from another age, I conceived him with the help of a man willing to sire a child he would never see for his own reasons"- At this, Cyrene noticed Leliana looked away, as if suppressing a bitter memory- "and I placed the soul of the Old God in his growing flesh when I tore it from the dying body of the archdemon Urthemiel in the last moments of the Fifth Blight's final battle. Kieran has never known anything different; I can only begin to imagine how this will affect him" Morrigan fretted, the picture of a concerned mother.

"But why would you-?"

"I told you at the Temple; the magic of old _must_ be preserved, no matter how feared" Morrigan insisted, before her expression became more pensive. "Kieran had a destiny and now, for better or worse, it rests in Flemeth's hands. I suppose we all must wait and see what she does with it"

"For what it's worth" Cyrene chimed in, placing a supportive hand on Morrigan's shoulder, no doubt trying to stir her away from darker thoughts "I think you did the right thing". Leliana nodded in agreement, but Morrigan looked far from convinced.

"She was testing me, as she did all through my years growing up in the Wilds, and I cannot honestly say if I passed or failed" she muttered as she turned to face the eluvian and with a cursory motion of her hand, the deep blue, almost watery tint to the mirror's surface died away, leaving its pitted surface the colour of old amber once more. She stared at it intently for a few moments, as if trying to draw more meaning from what had transpired within by increasing the intensity of her gaze, then broke away and turned to Cyrene.

"Flemeth said you must now battle a dragon for the power to match Corypheus?". Cyrene closed her eyes, the lids fluttering as the whispers in her mind no doubt furnished her with the knowledge she needed. After a few moments, they snapped open, her emerald-hued eyes blazing with fierce determination.

"I see it; to the west of here, an altar in a shaded wood, as she said: the last vestige of a shrine from the days of Elvhenan, sacred to Mythal"

"As no doubt is the creature you must battle there" Morrigan opined. "Pray my mother has not led you astray, Inquisitor. She is not above doing so for no more reason than her own amusement". Morrigan exited the side chamber first; the others went too, but while Cyrene headed in the direction of the sabtles, muttering something about seeing if Blackwall, Iron Bull, Varric and Dorian were up for an excursion, Leliana went after her old companion. Catching her by the arm, Leliana motioned for Morrigan to follow her into a corner of the garden where they wouldn't be overheard- she didn't want to embarrass the mage with what she had to say- and once they were there, spoke what was on her mind.

"Morrigan...whatever has paased between us over the years, I want to say I'm proud of what I saw you do there...and I owe you an apology"

"For what?" Morrigan seemed mystified.

"When you came to join the Inuqisition, for a long time I assumed you were the same cruel, self-centred and ruthlessly ambitious witch I took you to be when we first me. I owe you an apology because what I saw proves how wrong I was. The woman I knew during the Blight would _never_ have put others before herself, nor been willing to give her life to protect that of another without a second thought"

Morrigan did look embarrassed at the praise. "All I did was-"

"All you did was what every parent _should_ do. All you did was put your child's safety before your own, to protect him at all costs, no matter the threat to you...and not just him" Leliana added, remembering how Morrigan had urged Flemeth to release Cecily as well. "I'm proud to admit I was wrong about you, and I'm proud to have seen what you _truly_ are; a good woman, a good mother. Scoff at me if you want, but Kieran has changed you for the better; you only have to think on what you just did to know that's true"

Where once Morrigan would have snorted derisively at such a statement, she now merely looked away, a soft, wan smile touching at her lips and gave the barest suggestion of a nod. "He has, hasn't he? I never thought of myself as a mother, but it is not something I regret. I will _never_ regret him, or what I do to keep him". Llooking Leliana in the eye, Morrigan simply said "Thank you, Leliana. I...Thank you".

"I promise, I won't say anymore to spare us further embarrassment" Leliana jokingly promised and the two women laughed- the first, honest amusement they had ever shared in their long association- at that. Both making excuses to take their leave, the spymaster and the witch went their seperate ways, both buoyed up by the newfound respect they'd discovered for both themselves and each other.

* * *

Cecily awoke to the sensation of incredible softness under her back. Groggily rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat up, she realised she was in the Inquisitor's bed chamber for the first time since that day involving a cage of her mother's ravens for her work, a fresh steak from the kitchen and a hungry mabari had resulted in Auntie Josephine having to order new furniture and upholstery from Val Royeaux in the aftermath. Hearing voices talking softly nearby, she saw Kieran and Mother sitting on the coach to her right, whispering so as not to disturb her...until Kieran saw her stirring and his eyes lit up with delighted relief.

"You're awake! How'd you feel?"

"What happened? How did I get here? And why does my head hurt so much?" Cecily asked, rubbing her temples to alleviate the building headache. Mother and Kieran exchanged a look as they walked over, then Mother gently ruffled her hair in relief.

"That, sweetheart, is quite the story..."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Final part of this done. Apologies for the delay, I've been buried in other projects and personal problems; hopefully I've done enough justice to an idea that I've had in my head for quite a while that I wanted to see happen in Inquisition. Hope you all enjoy it!_**

* * *

 ** _Skyhold, 2 days after the death of Corypheus_**

Morrigan watched as the stable boy finished securing the saddle to the back of her horse; the mare, a gift from Empress Celene not long after Morrigan had taken up her post as the Empress's arcane advisor, had carried her from Halamshiral to the blood-soaked battlefields of the Arbor Wilds- even though she no longer intended to return to the Empire, it would serve her well on the road from Skyhold to…wherever she intended to go.

With Corypheus dead and her service to the Inquisition concluded, Morrigan, never one to stay in one place, fully intended to move on- she did not doubt the Inquisitor would welcome her staying on, but for all that she was grateful to the elf- both for granting her haven, allowing her to pursue her research and for saving her from becoming a pawn in whatever long game Flemeth was playing (albeit at the cost of Cyrene Lavellan herself taking Morrigan's place in that regard), she did not want to become associated with the Inquisition, both for her and Kieran's sakes; while the Inquisition stood high in the esteem of the powerful of Thedas, soon enough the wolves would begin to gather, all too eager to knock Cyrene Lavellan off her pedestal and tear the Inquisition this way and that for their own ends, and Morrigan had no wish to get caught up in the bloody power struggles that was sure to involve. In any event, as she had said to Cyrene, while she might have escaped whatever designs Flemeth had for the one who'd drunk from the Well of Sorrows, she was still the witch's daughter. _'And I highly doubt she is done with me and Kieran just yet'_.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?" a familiar voice asked behind her. Morrigan spun on her heel to see Leliana stood in the open doorway of the stable, her daughter at her side. Kieran's eyes lit up at the sight of Cecily and Morrigan gave him a nudge forward, inviting him to talk to his friend for what was likely to be the last time. The pair exited the stable in animated conversation, leaving their mothers alone to talk.

"Well, I have a reputation to maintain, don't I?" Morrigan opined.

"You won't stay?" Leliana asked, genuinely surprised. "Surely there are worse places you and Kieran could settle down? Here you and he could be safe, surrounded by friends, working towards something far greater. Your knowledge would be a great boon to our cause, Morrigan; Corypheus might be defeated, but there are still so many questions to be answered...and even if he is gone, there will be others who seek to rise to take his place. Your help and knowledge would be most welcome..."

Morrigan couldn't deny she was tempted; her time at Skyhold had been relatively peaceful. She had certainly felt like she'd become a part of the Inquisition; watching in her crow form from the forests around the ruined Temple, she'd felt the same horror as those around her watching as the ruins had floated into the sky to make a monstrous simulacrum of the Black City, awe as the sinuous forms of what could only be High Dragons had battled to the death amidst the levitating rubble, one the deep green of leaves lit by sunlight, the other the dull red of rotted flesh before both beasts locked talons and fell shrieking into the ruins, never to rise again, and triumph as a pillar of green flame had lanced into the sky from the centre of the ruins, piercing the heart of the Breach and with a thunderclap, sealing it for good. When the Inquisitor and her followers had returned to the castle that night, it had been to a hero's welcome. Even Morrigan had received a portion of the plaudits, much to her amusement and slight discomfort- being feted as a hero was not something she was used to- but she couldn't deny it was a little enjoyable. Even so, she couldn't allow that little taste to keep her lingering any longer.

"Cyrene may have spared me from whatever plans Flemeth had for me, but I am still her daughter, even if the Inquisitor is her creature now, and I am not so foolish to believe she is done with me, even if she does possess what she sought from Kieran. We will need to find somewhere safe, far from the reach of prying eyes, where I can truly see how Kieran's changes will affect him-"

"He seems well enough to me" Leliana opined, noting the animated discussion between their children just out of earshot. Morrigan inclined her head, but her expression remained pensive. "Perhaps, but I must be sure. Kieran's _circumstances_ were unique as it was before Flemeth's interfence; now I have no idea what will become of him. All I can do is keep him safe and prepare him for what is to come...but that is a matter for another day, and a cause of concern for me. I fear you will have other matters to contend with soon enough" Morrigan finished, her expression becoming serious.

"Tell the Inquisitor to take care...and do the same yourself. While the Inquisition stands high in the good graces of Thedas for now, soon enough that will change. Soon enough, jealous eyes will fall upon you, and many will gather, eager to knock the Inquisition down. Be ready for when that day comes..and it _will_ , Leliana. The goodwill you've generated will not last for ever...soon enough, fear, distrust and envy will take their place. The spymaster should keep her eyes open and her knives sharp. We both learned a long time ago enemies can come from any direction...and all too often hide their malicious intent behind a friend's smile" Morrigan warned, remembering their shared time fighting the Blight and navigating the court of Orlais where such a truth had been hammered home, both women sharing a significant look before Morrigan forced herself to smile, not wanting to leave on grim words.

The two women made a move as if to embrace, but then mutual embarrassment overcame them both and they settled for clasping hands and a friendly peck on the cheek as a means of goodbye. "Farewell, Lady Morrigan"

"Farewell...Most Holy" Morrigan said with a soft smile as she mentioned Leliana's soon to be confirmed new title. The two women exchanged a rueful laugh at that; it clearly hadn't sunk in for Leliana either, but Morrigan had to admit she would be well-suited for the position. The idealistic nature and open heart Morrigan had once mocked her for a decade ago would serve her well in the position; the war had proven things could not return to the way they had been, and Leliana not only had the open mindedness and adaptability to see the need for and allow such change, but also the force of will and sheer ruthlessness to see it done. ' _I look forward to seeing what she does from atop the Sunburst Throne'._

That left only one thing to be said.

"Kieran..." Morrigan began.

"Cecily, sweetheart, there's something we need to tell you both..." Leliana added, but they saw Cecily and Kieran exchange a look and mutually roll their eyes as they turned to face their mothers.

"Is it the fact we're related?" Cecily asked. "We figured it out" she explained at their astounded expressions, pulling out a gold chain around her neck and holding out the locket that hung from it. Leliana saw the portrait of Arthur inside it and guessed what must have happened. The similarities between father and son would be obvious to even a simpleton, and whatever else they could be described as- reckless, mischievous, stubborn- Kieran and Cecily weren't stupid. Leliana smiled as she realised her and Morrigan's arguments about keeping the children ignorant of their relation for fear of it undoing their friendship had been for nought.

"I have something for you" Morrigan suddenly spoke up, reaching out and from a pouch at her belt, pulling out an oblong blue crystal as long as her finger, which she desposited in Cecily's hand. "I took this from a Venatori magister, the same one who was my patron long ago, when I killed him in the Arbor Wilds; it's a sending crystal, of which I, and now Kieran, has its pair. Should you ever wish to speak to Kieran- or should you ever need to make use of me" Morrigan added with a look to Leliana "you need only look and speak. I cannot say where Kieran and I shall end up in Thedas, but if you do ever need my help again, well, at least this way I won't be hard to find"

Cecily murmured a "Thank you" as she took the crystal, and then to the surprise of all, gave Morrigan a goodbye hug; Morrigan looked completely baffled for a second before gingerly putting her arms around the girl and returning it somewhat. Leliana settled simply for ruffling Kieran's hair rather than embarrass him as badly as his mother.

As Morrigan helped Kieran into the saddle and pulled herself up after him, she turned in the saddle to look both mother and daughter in the eye as she addressed them. "Look after yourselves, and...and when you see him again, give your husband my regards". _When,_ not _if_ ; Morrigan did not doubt wherever he was in Thedas, Arthur Cousland would return to his family. He was too stubborn not to return with anything less than victory, and when he did, Morrigan hoped he would have long years to enjoy with the two women before him. _'He deserves it. All three of them do'_ she thought, marvelling at how easily such good-natured sentiment came to her these days.

"I will" Leliana promised, adding "And if the day comes when you want to arrange that meeting for Kieran, I'd be happy to help arrange it". Morrigan inclined her head gratefully and made to leave. As she did, Cecily called out, to Kieran, Morrigan assumed, but she felt the question was also directed at her. "Will we ever see you again?"

"I'm sure of it, _da'len_ " Morrigan insisted, using the elven word as a term of endearment. "I don't know where Kieran and I will end up, or what will happen to any of us...but I suspect Thedas is not quite done with us all just yet"

Digging her heels into the mare's sides, Morrigan directed the horse through Skyhold's gates, she and her son departing for a future as uncertain as that of the mother and daughter behind them waving goodbye, the castle and the people inhabiting it and indeed that of the very world itself


End file.
